Windmill
by Happymoose101
Summary: "Luckily, she had found the fish that follow your finger around and stayed put for a while. The teachers had all breathed a sigh of relief at that. So had he." Of Mike, Britt and nicknames from way long ago. BIKE!


A/N:) Hey everyone! ...umm, i don't really know what to say, but its mike, its brittany, and its meant to be haha. get artie and tina back together so that we can have BIKE! 3

Disclaimer: No, i don't own any of it but my storyline

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"Hey Mike?"

Dark eyes meet dancing blue ones. Instinctually, his smile is kept in check.

"Yeah Britt?"

The prelude to amusement sets in; he waits curiously for a response.

"D'you remember the nickname you gave me when we went on that field trip to the aquarium?"

Genuine fondness tugs one corner of his mouth upward.

"Haha, of course I do Brittany, I called you Windmill that day, sometimes I still do." Laughter lifts his voice higher than it would normally go. He wonders vaguely if he can hit that note while singing.

"You never call me that anymore."

He watches the spark in her eyes fade to a hurt glint. But she bounces back with renewed excitement and a new question before the guilt can hit him.

"Hey Mike?"

He grins at the déjà vu.

"Yeah Britt?"

"Do you remember how you gave me the name Windmill?"

She bites her lip, breathless, hopelessly hopeful that he would remember such a detail.

How could he forget? He could still see her, blond ponytail swinging frantically to keep up with its owner's pace. She had been so excited that day, bouncing around everywhere, running from one tank to the next. The chaperones were terrified of losing her. Luckily she found the fish that follow your finger around and stayed put for a while. The teachers all breathed a sigh of relief at that. So had he. Her arms were flaililng everywhere, like a windmill.

He tells her all this. She frowns back.

"No, that's not _how_ you gave me the name. You did call me Windmill all day though. I remember-'slow down… you crazy little windmill!'"

She mimics his worried face and high pitched voice from years ago.

And he remembers this too; even the pause in his sentence -caused no doubt by his eight year old uncertainty at addressing an equal in such a way. He remembers going for it out of a surge of bravery and affection.

But if those are not the right reasons, then he cannot for the life of him remember how he came up with his stroke of naming genius.

Before "Tell me Britt," can even leave his lips, she's already bubbled over with excitement.

"On the bus, on the way there. You and me sat next to each other, and I was so tired that day. I stayed up half the night waiting for morning to come because I couldn't wait."

She gets a faraway look in her eyes; he doesn't know whether to be humored or heartbroken.

There is uncharacteristic coherence as she continues, cloudy eyed, clear minded.

"I didn't want to fall asleep though, because who falls asleep on the bus in third grade? I was afraid Azimio would put something in my hair. But you told me to-"

"-Go to sleep anyway" he murmurs, vague pieces of the day coming back to him.

"-And you told me you'd watch over my bag lunch so that no one would steal it, and you'd make sure that Azimio didn't put anything in my hair."

He is not sure where the answer is in this anecdote, but feels something familiar tugging from inside. He cannot tell if its guilt or butterflies. All he knows is that it shouldn't be there.

"… I…still didn't want to go to sleep. Do you remember that, Mike? It's okay if you don't."

He doesn't remember any of it, and he is ashamed.

"I told you to sing me a lullaby, because I got nightmares if someone didn't sing to me before I went to bed."

He is dying to know what happened next, and can't bring himself to trust who he was nine years ago. He prays that he did the right thing that day.

She catches sight of him, completely enraptured by her narrative, and smiles reassuringly.

"You sang me the nicest lullaby. I'd never heard it before that day."

He narrows an eye, grasping at memories that are out of reach. She fills in the blanks.

"It went,

'Keep your head still,

I'll be your thrill,

The night will go on….'"

She recites this, does not sing it, because she wants only his voice to be preserved in her mind.

Mike knows the last line. He chuckles at the innocence of childhood, long since marred by sex, innuendo, the media and his own adolescence.

"You know Brittany, that's not exactly a lull-"

He suddenly stops himself, because the look in her eyes tells him that she _knows_. She knows it but doesn't want to hear it. It is what it is but in her mind it is simple and lovely. They are both shocked by her perception; he is devastated and curses himself for even opening his mouth.

He tries to fix it best as he can.

"That's not exactly a-"

"I know,"

"No, Britt, listen to me. That's not exactly a lullaby worth singing alone."

Her sad smile grows until he swears it lights up the room.

And so she crawls over and he wraps his arms around her, pulling her in as close as possible. Her strong, smaller hands push his own further inward. Her head finds his shoulder, and his guilt is pushed away altogether because in his mind he has righted a wrong. He ignores his vibrating phone. He could care less about the wrongs he will be creating in doing this.

He has confidence in his singing ability now, and has no problem with sailing quietly through

"Say it ain't so,

I will not go,

Turn the lights off,

Carry me home,"

Their background voices are not perfect, but sound beautiful together as they sleepily mumble-sing their way through the end.

"Keep your head still

I'll be your thrill

The night will go on

The night will go on

My little windmill."

He feels so warm, safe and happy, so content that he is positive that this song is indeed a lullaby.

She is so quiet after a few minutes that he realizes she has actually dozed off.

He does not hesitate in scooping her up in his arms, flicking off the switch to the choir room as he carries her out the door.

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A.N) Ta-da! haha just kidding. Thank You for reading! I know i'm kind of risking it using such a popular song, but it seemed right. Please review? Constructive criticism, anything really. I'd love to know what you thought. Reviews are super helpful in inspiring us writers to keep going! :)


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